


reaper

by simplecaelum



Series: 13 days of angst [2018] [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Gen, Melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 04:46:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16234484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplecaelum/pseuds/simplecaelum
Summary: [4 of 13]What a strange word, he thought. Reaping. Most humans considered it the taking of lives, as they considered him some form of god that took souls at his own discretion. A powerful being with a long black cloak and hood to hide what was only a skeleton; a being that carried only a scythe to carry out such ‘reapings’.No. Shiro was none of that. Well, with the exception of the cloak, but that was a personal preference.





	reaper

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this ahead of my Instagram schedule to mix it up and give you guys the first look!

The bridge disappeared behind him as he set foot on solid ground once again.

Sighing to himself, Shiro prepared for another reaping.

What a strange word, he thought. Reaping. Most humans considered it the taking of lives, as they considered him some form of god that took souls at his own discretion. A powerful being with a long black cloak and hood to hide what was only a skeleton; a being that carried only a scythe to carry out such ‘reapings’.

No. Shiro was none of that. Well, with the exception of the cloak, but that was a personal preference.

He was no stealer of souls, not a taker of lives, and he most certainly wouldn’t consider himself to be an angel of death. In truth, Reaper was probably the closest thing he had to a title.

When it was time for a person to take their journey into the afterlife, it was Shiro who escorted them. He did not decide when it was time for them to start their journey, nor did he decide where they would go. Really, there was no place to go. There was only forward.

Once forward ended, Shiro moved to the next person, to take them to their forward.

The person noticed him, and he judged them to be late teens. He prepared himself for the routine questions.

“Who are you?” For simplicity's sake, I am a reaper.

“Does that mean I’m dead?” Yes, and no. But in this moment, yes.

“Where are we?” Nowhere. An alternate dimension that holds no concept of space nor time. But to you, nowhere.

“Who was right?” No one. Everyone. Your forward is your forward. I am unsure of what awaits you beyond that.

Beyond that, the reactions varied. Some tried to run, only to find themselves back where they started. Some thought it was a prank. Some accepted it. Others, with particularly traumatic deaths, suffered from memory loss and just stared at him blankly. Eventually all of them followed.

This one seemed to ponder the answers before nodding decidedly.

Shiro had only ever dealt with teenagers and young adults, and he supposed that was because they were similar in age to him. He wasn’t sure how old he was, exactly, but he felt around early twenties, if there were such a feeling.

It never bothered him that there never seemed to be an end. He had been escorting people forward for as long as he could remember. He knew what he had to do, and so he did it.

He had grown accustomed to the dull sadness that draped over him when he would arrive to see someone far too young to be in his company. Accustomed to the unbreakable hold of regret at the all too common breakdowns of those who had left so much behind. Accustomed to the despair that smothered him with those who didn’t think they left anything or anyone behind.

He tried not to let it get to him, to shut off the sympathy. Without sympathy, Shiro only felt pity. When sympathy became too much - which was often - he pitied. Empathy was never an option. To feel what they felt wasn’t possible.

So Shiro started forward, pushing down every feeling that threatened to bubble to the surface. It would only make his job harder.

The person followed wordlessly behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this is an improvement from the past stories, and I hope you feel the same. This is a concept I've been wanting to write for a while and I finally got the chance!
> 
> This will be posted on IG tomorrow.


End file.
